The Obsidian Avenger
by dearemmahansen
Summary: Althea never expected for her hands to be transformed. When a volcanic eruption destroys her home and sister, Natasha Romanoff discovers Althea's strange abilities. Althea is inducted into the group, and relations are formed... but what will happen when Althea is set on missions? This story will be updated faster on Wattpad- follow me there at @magical muggle
1. Characters

Sort of weird timeline so list of people in the Avengers provided

Captain America

Iron Man

The Hulk

Black Widow

Scarlet Witch

Thor

Spiderman

Bucky's there but idk

Hawkeye

The Falcon

War Machine

Vision sort of

Like Black Panther visits and helps but idk

Ant-Man just shows up sometimes but no one knows why idk


	2. Chapter 1

I stare at my hands.

 _No, this can't be happening._

The sole logical brain cell of mine tries to get attention from the back of my head, but I shake it off. Because it very much is happening.

My hands are black as coal, the darkness spreading to the bump in my wrist. I try to stretch them, flex them, but my movement is limited and small bits of rock fall from between my fingers.

The brain cell goes quiet.

But my mind returns to my surroundings, my coal hands being shifted to the back seat as I take in my setting.

The house isn't burning.

It's fine.

I sprint inside desperately, throwing one last look at the now cooled rock where I had been sprawled against previously.

"Marissa!" I shout, running through the entry and desperately searching for my sister. "Marissa, where are you?" She couldn't have been knocked outside-she was in the very center of the house.

I search every room hysterically, tears pouring down my face. I can see a few dripping into my practically carved hand, running through the grooves that used to be my palm lines. My voice gets softer and weaker every time until I finally get to her bedroom, my voice barely above a mumble.

It only gets quieter when I see her.

"Marissa..." I run over and clutch her form. Her hands are normal, a suntanned olive that used to match my own perfectly. "Maris..."

I try to feel her pulse through my changed hands, still the same form that they were in beforehand. The same length and shape... they should still work! But as I press my index and middle finger against her neck, I can't even feel the smoothness of her skin.

"Marissa," I hiss, leaning closer as my tears start to pepper her face like our home's two minute rain showers. "Marissa, wake up."

I take in the gash starting at her hairline, dipping back beneath her hair. Her hair, her greatest pride. The black, thick waves that she spent hours tending to. The blood sticks strands together, some coated in a substance that turns the noir into bordeaux. I can feel the gash through my wrist, gently, pressing in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the bleeding. All of my efforts are to no avail. "Marissa, please, it's time to wake up. We need to take you to the hospital. Roy might be there, I know his house is near the volcano too..." I continue to ramble to my older sister's closed eyes, my tears pouring down my face as my emotions turn from shower to storm. "And he'll be so happy to see you Maris, because you two are in _love_ , and soon he's going to propose because I heard him talking about rings to his friend... and he'll take you away to my disappointment but it'll be okay because I'll get a dog... " I sob, a throaty gulp of air as I pat Marissa's face continuously. "And I'm going to need you to wake up so we can get a move on with that because I already saw the perfect dog at the shelter-" I hiccup, starting to shake her shoulders. "Marissa, come on! Marissa, I need you to help me because my hands are all messed up now and you always know what to do-MARISSA!" I scream, sobbing and wailing.

A door crashes. I turn my head as three men storm into the room. A woman trails behind them, looking melancholy. Her red hair is a shock compared to her black jumpsuit, but my attention is pulled back to the three men as they lower their guns. I stare at the guns with fear, clutching Marissa close to me.

"Who are you?" I whisper, trembling as tears continue to rivet down my face.

The woman steps forward, leaning down so shes eye level with me. "I'm going to need you to let go of her, okay?"

"I need to wake her up," I insist, holding on to my sister tighter. "She needs to wake up."

"She's not going to wake up," the woman replies softly, feeling Marissa's neck in a way that I couldn't. For the first time she notices my hands: ebony, coarse, and rocky.

"What happened?" She asks, staring at me as I clench my fists.

"The volcano erupted," I say plainly. "I was thrown outside and landed on the hardening lava. Marissa got knocked down, which is probably why it's taking her a while to wake up."

The woman turns to the men, and signals something. Two of them leave the house while the remaining one puts away his gun. I can see a logo on his chest, a seeming falcon stretching his wings in a circle. I look back to the woman, who lifts my left hand in wonder. I can't feel it, of course, but I watch as she stretches my fingers apart.

"Can you move your hands?" She asks.

I put my hands in a jazz hands motion, balancing my sister on my lap.

The two men come back in, carrying a stretcher. One loads Marissa on, and the over covers her with a sheet. They exit again, as I stare at the door.

"They took her away."

"Yes," the woman says, standing again.

"Can they give her back?"

"No," she says, shaking her head sadly. "But I'm going to need you to come with me."

"What?" I ask, staring at her.

"I need to take you somewhere," she says, holding out her hand to help me up.

"Where?"

"A place to help you."

I accept her hand gingerly, surprised when she pulls me up with unexpected strength. She turns to the man. "Jimmy, tell Steve I'm bringing someone back."

The man nods and leaves the room, muttering into some sort of earpiece. The woman looks me up and down, then nods. "Follow me."

"Who are you?" I demand, chasing her through my perfectly fine house. "Where are you taking me?"

The woman turns back to face me when we get outside. I see two silver cars parked in the driveway, right next to the long stretch of cooled lava.

"You can call me Natasha," the woman says, pulling car keys from her pocket. "And I'm taking you to meet some very important people that you may have heard of... the Avengers."

"Who is she?"

"I don't know."

"She must have a connection to him."

"Our databases say otherwise."

"I don't trust her."

"She doesn't trust us."

"She's in shock! Her sister just died!"

"Who are we talking about?"

I open my eyes and look around, momentarily forgetting where I am. This simple blue and grey room is so different than my cluttered black one at home. My hands grip the basic grey sheets around me as I sit up, dressed in the black t-shirt and leggings that Natasha gave me yesterday. I can hear the voices still discussing in the room outside of this one, but I move quietly as I slip out of the bed and tiptoe over to the mirror to examine myself.

Yep, normal.

I try to see parts of Marissa in me, searching desperately. I can see our skin tone, though while our hands were the same her face was darker. More suntanning than my swimming.

Our eyes are the same earthy brown, same upturned almond.

I sigh as I look at my hair. Marissa's is full and wavy black, bouncing at her shoulders. Mine is straight and brown, stretching to mid-back. I frown and tug at strand before something else catches my eyes.

Of course.

The fricking hands.

They haven't changed since yesterday, still jet black coal. I clasp my hands together, feeling nothing in my palms. I groan and put them to my face, wincing and pulling them away as their roughness scratches my cheeks.

I slip on my sneakers, the worn soles familiar in this room of strangeness. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and tuck my hands behind me, slowly walking down the hall towards what appears to be a kitchen. A nice one, but I can't focus on that.

Eyes focus on me, and I hide my hands even more as I take in the people around the table.

I look to Natasha first, who smiles and nods in reassurance. I try to smile back, succeeding in a type of grimace before my face falls flat.

Because no one else looks happy with me.

"She needs to be interviewed," one man says. He's slightly older, brown hair that has a few strands of grey mixed in, along with his goatee/beard. He has a calculating gleam in his eyes along with something roguish.

"I know, Tony." Natasha rolls her eyes and nods as the man, Tony, stands and gestures to me.

"Follow me," Tony says gruffly, and I follow him slowly down a hall to a fancy office. He sits at a desk, and I sit across from him carefully. I look around the glass designs and neutral color palette.

"I'm going to ask you a series of questions," Tony says, opening a holographic tablet. "And you are going to answer them truthfully."

I look at my hands in my lap, fiddling with my ink black rock hard hands. "Yes sir."

"What's your name?" Tony asks, launching immediately into the questions.

"Althea," I say. "Althea Keaton."

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Where are you from?"

"Pahala, Hawaii."

"And why are you here?"

"Natasha brought me."

"And why did she bring you?"

I take a deep breath and hold up my hands. Tony looks taken aback, before leaning forward to examine them. "What are these?"

"My hands."

Tony gives me a look. "Thank you. What are they made of?"

"I think coal," I say. "After the eruption, there was a shock that sent me flying out of my house. I woke up against hardened lava, with my hands like this."

Tony nods, then shakes his head. "That's not coal. That's obsidian."

"Lava rock?"

He nods. "I wonder..." He stands and leaves the room. I follow him quickly, returning back to the kitchen. The others are still chatting, though seeming a lot happier than earlier. When we enter Natasha turns around to look at me, smiling.

"Well, Avengers," Tony says, making eye contact with each of them. "Meet Althea. Our newest Avenger."


	3. Chapter 2

_Newest Avenger?_

He's got to be kidding me.

"No, I'm not kidding." Tony crosses his arms, looking at me. "Althea here is going to be one of the most powerful avengers yet."

"How do you know?" A man asks. He seems young, with dark skin, short hair, and sleek goggles.

"Well, Sam, for one- I'm a genius. I know everything. Two, look at her hands. Something happened to her when the volcano exploded. Something's going on that's caused her hands to turn into obsidian."

"Obsidian?" Another man asks. He has short blond hair and blue eyes, and his feet are fiddling with a patriotic shield. "You're sure?"

"Steve, again, yes. I know it is." Tony raises my left hand and places it on the table. "Look. It matches the description of obsidian perfectly."

"That makes sense, too," Natasha adds. "Obsidian is hardened lava. She landed in half cooled lava. It is possible that there was something going on in that volcano that isn't... average for a volcano."

"Yes," another man says. At least- I think it's a man. He's red with silver and gold lining, a glowing yellow stone in his forehead just to be the cherry on top. "Some HYDRA activity, perhaps."

"It it's HYDRA," Steve says. "They must have a mutant because this isn't normal tech."

"Agreed," a slightly higher voice says.

I turn to face the speaker, a teenage boy that's my age. Brown curls, brown eyes, sitting on the counter in a suit. Red and blue... with a spider on the chest?

"Glad you agree, Peter," Tony says sarcastically. "So we just need to see if Althea's hands actually do anything special. Do you know anything special about them yet?"

It takes me a second to realize that he's talking to me, but I clear my throat. "Um, I don't know. I can't feel anything with them."

Tony nods. "So, if I ran your hand under water..."

"It would still feel dry," I finish.

"And if I stuck it into flames?"

"I would be fine?" I wince. "But I don't really want to test that right now, if that's okay."

Natasha nods. "Of course. But we should try other stuff. Because there's something else I saw."

"What?" I ask.

"Uh." She turns to the rest of the group. "Vision, Peter, Bucky, Thor, Sam, and Rhody, can you go check on the lab?" She gives them a meaningful look, and they all nod.

After they file out, she turns to the rest of us. It's still me and Tony, with Steve, Natasha, a nerdy looking guy with salt and pepper hair, a woman with long reddish-brown curly hair and red clothing, and a man with cropped brown hair and... a quiver? over his shoulder.

"Althea can do something else," Natasha says. "When I saw her, she was clutching her sister. But when she got agitated, her hands glowed. Like flames. I swear I saw a spark or two."

"W-what?" I stutter. "I can.. Make fire?"

Natasha nods.

"That's even better!" Tony says, walking backwards a few steps. "Your hands are not only unfeeling, but flammable!"

"There had to be a better way to say that," the man with the quiver mutters.

"We can probably harness that," the nerdy guy says, straightening and walking around the kitchen island. "If you show raw power when overwhelmed, then you can train that power to come out when you want. We just need to figure out what your brain sends to your hands when agitated."

"Yes!" Tony says, pointing at him. "Yes, Bruce. We just need to get Althea pissed."

"Be considerate!" The woman in red says, shaking her head before looking at me. "This poor girl has been suffering for the past 24 hours!" Her voice is heavily accented, but pretty. She walks over to me, and frowns at Tony. "Give her a break!"

"Fine," Tony says. "Fine, Wanda. Bruce and I will set up the equipment while you, Natasha, and Clint help her get situated with the rest of the group."

Natasha sighs. "Fine. But we're working on your manners, Tony Stark."

Tony's already walking off, pulling Bruce with him. "If anything happens, I'll throw money at it."

"Everyone!" Natasha clears her throat, looking around the crowded living room. "Did you check the lab?"

Silence.

"No," a man finally says. He has shaggy brown hair and.. Is that a metal arm?! "But it's because Scott and T'Challa showed up." He uses his FRICKING METAL FINGER to point to two men sitting on the sofa. One has a sort of rumpled, mischievous look, and the other has a very regal air around him.

"Tony sent us messages," the regal man says with an accent. I'm assuming he's T'Challa. "About a newest Avenger."

"You're looking at her," Clint says, gesturing to me. I feel all the eyes in the room shift onto me, and Natasha and Wanda stand next to me protectively as I start to feel anxious. I hide my hands behind my back incase they start to overheat.

"She is but a child," T'Challa says.

"I'm fifteen," I say defensively.

"That's my age," Peter pipes up.

"Ah. That is close to my sister's." T'Challa nods. "Why is she an Avenger then?"

"Because of these." Natasha holds up my hands as I bit my lip, looking down so I can avoid Scott and T'Challa's confused looks.

"What happened?" Scott asks, confused.

"Volcano eruption," I say. I'm getting kind of tired of my 'origin story'. "I fell into half hardened lava."

Scott winces. "Sorry... but can you do anything with them? Otherwise they're just..."

"Yes, she can," Wanda says, rolling her eyes. "They're unable to feel any pain or outside forces. And when overwhelmed, they can spark into flames."

"Tony and Bruce are working on testing that right now," Clint adds.

"She needs a superhero name," Sam says.

Steve shoots him a look, but I snort. "Yeah, okay. That would be fun."

"Miss Lava-ly," Tony says, entering the room. Natasha scoffs and waves that away.

"Burning Bit-"

"Tony, shut up."

"Ms. Magma."

"Sparker."

"That sounds like my-"

"Not now, Peter."

"Blaze."

"Inferno."

"Char-"

"Wait," I say, holding up my hand. "What was that last one?"

"Inferno," Peter repeats nervously.

"I like that one," I say, grinning. "I actually like that one a lot."

"Like Dante's?" Steve asks Bucky, confused.

"No," Bucky replies.

"Perfect," Clint says, high fiving me before wincing. "Ow, that hurt. You're strong."

"Really?" I ask, cradling my hand. "I'm sorry, I've never been strong before. That must be another new thing."

"We should make a list," Bruce mutters.

"Anyway, I wanted to say," Clint continues, "introducing the newest Avenger, Inferno."

I wave sheepishly, unsure what I'm supposed to do.

"Okay, so we set it up," Bruce says. "I think it would be great if we could go test that out right now."

"Sounds great," Tony says. "Althea, and your, uh, bodyguards, right this way."

I follow Tony out the door, and Natasha and Wanda stay by my side. It's nice to have them with me. I've always felt more comfortable with girls, so it's just helping me adjust. The shock of today is covering the awfulness of yesterday-but I might break down. Having Natasha and Wanda feels like a security blanket- they both feel like Marissa.

"Okay, Althea, just plop down there. Yup!" Tony nods as I sit in a dentist's chair, and I look around the small, plain room. Wanda nods comfortingly, and Natasha watches Bruce prepare a syringe.

"This involves needles?" I ask, frightened. I hated needles.

"In your hand," Tony smirks. "You won't feel a thing, Infant."

"It's Inferno," I say, already attached to my new name.

Bruce slowly injects the mysterious substance into my hand. I don't feel the prick. A warm feeling spreads down my arms, and I feel my eyelids close as Bruce and Tony clamp my hands open. "What?..."

"It's a simulation," Tony says, and Wanda grips my shoulder as I relax into the slumber.


	4. Chapter 3

"Althea!"

I whirl around, searching for the voice that had just called my voice. I couldn't see anyone around me in this encasing darkness.

But quickly my surroundings changed. My house, normal as could be. No lava in the driveway.

And out runs Marissa, good as new. Her hair bounces against her shoulders, her eyes sparkling. "Althea!"

"Maris!" I run, slamming against her in a tight hug. She laughs and hus me back for a second before pulling away.

Marissa studies my face, her smile fading as she takes in my miserable face. "Ally? What's the matter?"

I look down at my hands. Normal hands. Tanned skin, a nick on the thumbpad from a kayaking accident… "I-"

Her attention is pulled away to something behind me, and I turn to look down the driveway.

A black form stands at the edge of the pavement, gazing at us through dark eyes. I turn quickly back to Marissa, but she's frozen. Unmoving. Her mouth open, she stares without looking at the figure. I rotate back the form, who was slowly drifting up the driveway. Its eyes focused on Marissa, and I stood protectively in front of her, snarling at the silhouette.

It just stood there, peering at Marissa.

"You don't go near her," I hiss. I can instinctively sense that this is part of the thing that killed her… and made me what I am.

A low rumbling escapes from the form, cracking the pavement. As the ground starts to split into chunks, the figure reaches form Marissa's stilled arm. I roar, and snatch it away. As my normal hand touches the shadowy arm, everything goes dark, the last sound my own roar.

"Hrgh."

I open my eyes, and look out at the gathering around me. I access that Bruce, Natasha, Tony, and Wanda are all still here, before I register their faces. Shock, all directed at my hands. I look.

My obsidian hands glow, flames coursing down the rivlets and gathering in a small bonfire in the center of each palm. Hesitantly, I put my hands together, and pull them apart. The fire stretches from one palm to the other, flickering blue at the orange. I look up at the group again, focusing on their faces.

Tony has a look of pride on his face, pleased that he was able to activate my flames. Bruce looks shocked- he probably wasn't expecting this. Or rather- in this proportion. I wasn't either. I thought I could make some little sparks, then poof- but no, instead I get this little orbs of bonfire. Lucky me!

Natasha looks resigned, her mouth curled in a 'yep, that's almost exactly what I saw'. And Wanda looks horrified- practically disgusted. I furrow my eyebrows and concentrate, lessening the rage flowing through my veins- and the fire distinguishes.

"What was that for?!" Tony whines, unclamping my hands and frowning. "It was just getting good!"

"I don't know," I say, looking at Wanda again. She's breathing softly, watching my blackened hands. "I just… was super angry."

"That's the point." Bruce says. "Take it from me- your power comes from anger."

I raise an eyebrow, but don't get any further explanation.

"What did you see?" Natasha asks, helping me sit up.

"I saw…" I throw a look over to Tony, who looks slightly sheepish. "You knew!"

Tony scuffs the tip of his shoe against the ground. "I just needed to find a painful memory and manipulate it so it feels like a new reality. It was pretty obvious what the memory was from what Natasha told us, so i just used your sister. Even though you would be happy, the longing would spark rage."

"I wasn't _happy_ ," I spit. "Nothing about that mysterious cloud dude freezing my sister was _happy_ , thank you very much."

"Cloud dude?" Bruce interrupts, holding up a finger to Tony and walking closer. "What cloud dude?"

I stutter, unsure if I'd said something wrong. "The… the dark figure. He came up the driveway and practically paralyzed my sister before trying to take her from me."

Tony looks at Bruce. "I didn't do anything with a dark figure."

"Me neither."

"So what you're saying-" Wanda says, speaking up as a confident and analyzing sheen spreads over her face, "is that something hijacked the serum."

"Something in her," Bruce says.

"My name is Althea," I say, but they ignore me.

"The lava…" Natasha trails off, something dawning on her.

"I knew it wasn't normal lava!" Tony cheers, fist-pumping.

"So what you're saying," I say, holding up a hand so they'll look at me. "Is that whatever in the lava gave me _these_ -" I hold up my hands, the left one slightly smoking and the right one spilling ash. "Also implanted something in my brain to create the figure."

"The figure must be the one that caused the eruption," Wanda says. "Don't you see?"

"Of course!" Bruce exclaims. "Yes!"

"And we also discovered a shortcut," Tony says smugly. "She got angry much faster than I calculated, so…" he opens my hands and held them in the air. "Althea, think of the cloud dude."

I close my eyes and picture the shadowy silhouette, drifting closer and closer to my sister. It's dark eyes loom, stretching and stretching and-

I open my eyes. My hands are ablaze, crackling like a campfire.

"Yes!" Tony shouts, clapping. "I told you! Short cut! The figure short circuits her nerve endings and fills her with pure rage! Genius!" He presses a button on his wrist, and a red and yellow metal glove encases his right hand. He high fives my burning palm before deactivating the glove.

"Perfect," Bruce says, smiling a little. Even Natasha nods with approval. Tony leads us into the hallway, but Wanda pulls me aside.

"Althea," she says, glancing towards the other three's backs. "I don't like this. The figure is getting to you."

I nod. "Yeah." I bite my lip. "I want to know who it is."

She sighs. "Me too."

We look at each other for a moment, before following the others.

"It worked," Tony says, grinning.

Steve nods sagely. Sam cracks a smile. The rest settle for "Good job" or "Congratulations" or the like.

Good job for what? Watching my sister almost be taken? Congratulations for being helpless to a cloud?

I smile back.

"Can she show us?" Clint asks, leaning into an armchair and pushing that Spiderboy Peter out of it.

Natasha glances at me with a small smile, and I focus on the cloud. Closer-closer-close-

My hand flares, and I hold it up so everyone can see. Their faces range from approval to mildly impressed… except for one.

"Bravo!" A man roars. I'm pretty sure his name is Thor, but nothing about this person is normal. He has long blond hair and a cape, clutching a hammer tightly in his right fist. "That is most impressive!"

"Thank… you?"

"It's a compliment," Bruce says.

"So we agree?" Tony asks. "She's an Avenger?"

Steve shrugs. "Seems okay. Natasha will need to train her…"

"We have room."

"And time."

"Work with Peter…"

"Help Peter."

"Hey!"

"Wait," I say. "When can I go home?"

Wanda bites her lip. Rhody winces.

"You can't," Natasha says, clearly deciding to avoid beating around the bush. "This is your home now."

"What?!"  
"Your legal guardian is d- has passed away," she corrects herself. "We would be your new guardians- or rather, Tony and Pepper would be."

"I don't want a teenage daughter!"

"You're getting one!" Natasha shoots back, before returning to me in her previous soft tone. "So… it's like a new family. We could use one of those, right?"

"Not with a teenage daughter, I don't," Tony mumbles.

"I'll be talking with Pepper," Natasha warns, and Tony shuts up.

"Okay." I look at my feet, slightly embarrassed that this is happening in front of so many people. I feel like a child being shifted around. "So.. you guys are my new family?"

"Yeah!" Tony says, trying to compensate now. "T'Challa's your dad, Steve's your mom-"

"What?!"

"Bucky's your other dad," Tony continues. "Clint's your uncle, Natasha's your aunt, Scott's your baby brother-"

"Baby?!"

"Peter's your cousin…" Peter blushes. "Wanda's your sister, Bruce is your grandpa, Vision's your grandma. Rhody's that like third cousin four times removed, Thor's your 'fun uncle', and… I'm your uncle too." He nods. "So can't she be T'Challa, Steve, and Bucky's kid?"

"Legal adoption processes are very different in Wakanda," T'Challa replies.

"Oh-kay. Steve?"

"You and Pepper are adopting her, Tony," Wanda says, examining her fingers.

"Damn it!"

Steve stands up and reaches a hand for me to shake. "I'm on board. Welcome to the Avengers, Althea."

 *****A/N*****

 **I'm looking for a beta reader for my new PJO fic! Will feature Dark Percy in Tartarus. Please send a message if interested!**


	5. Chapter 4

"It's pretty simple," Natasha says one more time, stepping up to a fighting stance again. "Just aim for the jaw."

"I am," I grumble, pulling the gloves tighter as a habit. The tight red gloves cinch oddly over my rocky hands, but at least my limbs no longer feel quite like the monstrosity that they are.

"Again," Natasha prompts, nodding. "Aim for my face. A simple jab like you did on the dummy earlier."

"The dummy didn't have a face or a moving body," I reply, getting into position.

"And go!" She says, decidedly ignoring my apathetic remark.

I bounce back and forth on my feet for a second before springing forwards, my left hand coming out before pulling back in and allowing my right hand my power. I thrust the fist towards Natasha's jaw with as much power as I can muster, letting out a small yell of frustration. It almost connects before Natasha steps back, spinning and grabbing my wrist in a lock.

"See, I can't punch you when you move," I say, pulling my hand away and shaking it out.

"Do you think whoever you're fighting is going to just stay still and wait for them to take you down?" Natasha tightens her sleeve before turning to the table and tossing me a water bottle. "You need to be flexible. Anticipate their next movement. Always be one step ahead."

"How can I be one step ahead when I always feel like I'm one step behind?" I take a long drink from the bottle before setting it down. "Besides, can't I just use my fire?"

"You can't always rely on your power in a fight," Natasha says. "What happens if you're fighting someone with ice, or the ability to take away all of your abilities? Then you have to fall back on simple techniques."

"Like you do?" I sense the question might be bad almost immediately, and Natasha turns away.

"My power is my fighting," she says slowly. "You've done enough for today, Althea. Why don't you go get some rest?"

I don't argue with her, and leave the room quickly.

"Hey, Althea right?"

I turn from my place at the kitchen counter to find that Spider-boy standing sheepishly in the doorway.

"That's me," I say, slipping down from my bar stool. "Peter?"

"Yep!" He has this little sense of positivity around him, like a bouncing ball. It's endearing. "Urm, Mr. Stark sent me. He said that I should help you get some stuff for your new home while he and Pepper fill out the adoption forms."

"So…" I smirk a little. "You're supposed to take me shopping."

"Mr. Stark figured it would be okay, seeing as you have gloves now," Peter says, blushing a little while gesturing to my hands. Tony was right. In October, New York City, no one would be suspicious of gloves.

I nod. "Okay, Spider-boy. You can take me shopping."

"It's actually, um, Spider-man…"

"Sure then." I grin. "Let's go." I wave my fingers in the air as I walk towards my room for my shoes. "If I'm here any longer, I might burn up."

Peter gulps.

Manhattan is beautiful.

Sure, it's not the beauty of turquoise waters on pristine beaches like in Hawaii, but it's it's own beauty. The tall, clean, metallic buildings shooting up, the people bustling and the roar of noises… it gives the city its own splendor and appeal.

Peter seems to finally relax, walking down the streets. I'd pester him about why he was carrying around a backpack on a Saturday, but he wouldn't relent. I had a feeling it had something to do with the red and blue sleeve I'd seen sticking out of it earlier though.

"So, you're from around here?" I ask, sticking my gloved hands into my pockets.

"Yeah," Peter says, looking ahead of us. "You?"

"Hawaii, born and raised." I smile softly a little. "The big island."

"What was it like?" Peter asks, getting excited again. "I've always wanted to go to Hawaii, but growing up my aunt didn't have much money…"

"It was fine," I say, shrugging. "It doesn't feel like paradise, y'know, because you think it's normal. After school, I did my homework before running out and swimming with my friends for a few hours. It was just my routine."

"After school, I normally just build Legos with my friend," Peter says, before clearing his throat in embarrassment. "I mean, um, yeah, me too."

I laugh a little. "So what did Tony say to buy?"

"Clothes, shoes," Peter recites, counting on his fingers. "Furniture, and electronics."

"I already have-" I stopped. I was still picturing my old stuff in my old room, with it's simple white woven bed and chair, wooden desk, and small dresser.

I shook my head. This was my chance to start fresh, start new! Get everything I ever wanted… which included ditching my crappy iPhone 4.

I follow Peter into the Apple Store, feeling a forced sense of rejuvenation. But who cares if it was forced? It was still happening.

"How are we going to pay for this?" I hiss to Peter.

I've never felt more wealthy than standing in line at this fancy building, clutching a new phone, laptop, and tablet.

"Mr. Stark gave us a card," Peter says, pulling it out from his backpack.

"But this must cost thousands!"

"Mr. Stark can handle it," Peter says, a slightly dreamy tone invading his normal one.

I marvel at that statement. How rich can you be if buying a basketful of electronics is just 'handling it', especially in such a passive tone?

We step up to the register, and I watch as everything goes through, and the swipe of the card barely takes any time at all. We're done in a minute, and I step outside into the biting wind with a smile on my face as I tug my gloves up.

That is, until a car nearly knocks me over. I duck and pull Peter down with me as the car barely skims our heads before slamming into the sidewalk behind us. There are screams and cries, and Peter pulls me up and into an alley.

"What's going on?" I ask.

"I don't know," he says frantically, starting to peel off his clothes.

"Peter!"

"I'm sorry!" He says, zipping open his backpack and quickly pulling on a blue and red suit that he frantically slams the center to fit his body. I watch as he turns to me, frantically panting. "Okay, um, Althea, stay here."

"I'm not staying here!" I burst. "I want to help!"

"You're not going to help!" Peter says, shocked. "Mr. Stark said I should take care of you!"

"Don't bother, Peter!" I say, taking off my gloves. "You go help, but I'm coming with you."

"You can't-"

"Shut it." I push him out onto the street, little rocks from my palms sticking onto his suit. I can feel my anger box in the back of my mind alighting, and I smile. I needed it now. Peter still looks hesitant, because the eyes of his suit keep resizing. I push him along, and we turn the block.

There's something obscured in the middle of the street, wrapping around cars and lamps. There are people screaming in every direction, but I can still hear the low rumble coming from the center of the vortex.

"Peter!" I scream above the roar. "Get me above that thing!"

"Are you sure that's a good idea Al-"

"Do it!"

Peter wraps his arm around my waist and sends a freaking.. Net? to attach to the side of a building. I'm pulled along with him as we speed towards the stone wall. He absorbs the impact right on time, and I fall against him. I almost laugh at the awkward position we're in, but that was before I look down.

The black figure from my simulation, the one implanted in my mind, stands in the eye of the whirling hurricane. And it's looking right at me.

"Child," it whispers once, before closing its hand. I fall out of Peter's arms, and it the midst of the shock, and I can feel myself swallowed with fire before the world goes black.


End file.
